


I Got Adopted By My Counselor and All I Got Was This Shitty T-Shirt (and some new binders so I guess it's a win)

by AgentAngeles



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Child Abandonment, Dadvid AU, Gen, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, also strong language??? but it's camp camp so..., also you can't convince me after the finale that max's parents didn't abandon him, and david is the trans counselor with good intentions but kinda sucky executions, basically max is a small trans boy who just wants to be a boyo in peace, gwen is the ally we all need, he tries his best though he really does, improper binding, transphobic language, you can pry trans max from my dead gay hands
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2018-12-23 17:48:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11994864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentAngeles/pseuds/AgentAngeles
Summary: Sydney doesn’t expect much out of camp when she hears about it. Tries to ignore the harsh sting her mom’s words carry when the woman claims she needs to be “helped”. Sydney especially doesn’t expect to go to this special camp and get the help she actually deserves. At the end of camp, Max isn't actually surprised that his mom doesn't come for him. He's more surprised when David rips into Max's mom and then adopts Max himself. TW for transphobic language, also strong language (but you should be used to that)





	1. Settling In

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! Going through the fic, if you've ever been especially observant of Camp Camp, you'll notice that there are some continuity errors (i.e. Max has a single tent in CH2, has a double tent in the show). This is due to two things;
> 
> 1\. Because is is an AU, I've changed things up a bit.  
> 2\. i'm really fucking unobservant and forget to check on everything because i am a one-human show and i don't have any betas
> 
> Everything that's inaccurate to the show's canon in that regard is also relatively minor, so hopefully it isn't too much of a red flag to deter you!
> 
> (Also the word count is really wonky? Not sure why...)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post date: 9/4/17  
> Chapter Word Count: 1291  
> (See end for author's notes)

“And another thing, young lady! You aren’t to be going around masquerading as someone else, do you hear me?

 

Sydney rolls her eyes, sinks a bit farther into her hoodie. She knows that playing good will get her mother off of her back.

 

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

The older woman glances at her daughter, sighing disappointedly.

 

“I wish it didn’t have to be like this, but I’m at my wits end. You’ve been my little girl since the beginning, and you’re _staying_ that way. I’m walking my daughter down the isle when she gets married, do you understand me Sydney?”

 

Sydney nods, stares out the window and tries to hold back tears. The trees are thick outside, the dirt road barely hiding them. She wonders how hard it would be to escape there, entertains the possibility of getting lost and being raised by wolves, only to come out strong and powerful. Oh, how her mother would understand then.

 

The car stops suddenly. Sydney flies into the dashboard, grumbling as she rubs her head.

 

“We’re here, baby girl. Let’s get you settled.”

 

Sydney opens her door, wincing at how bright it is out in the country. The few clouds in the sky are big and fluffy, and there’s no smog within sight. The sky is blue, like her hoodie. Sydney sticks her hand into her pocket, rubs the fabric of her extra ace bandage nervously. The one hugging her chest digs into her ribs painfully, although she ignores it in favori of the scenery.

 

She looks around and catches the eye of a guy in a green shirt and small vest. He’s looking right at her, whispering into some lady’s ear. She’s wearing a similar shirt to him, but no vest. Sydney’s mom is too busy looking around to notice them, but Sydney is very much aware of them.

 

_They’re counselors._

 

Vest-guy bounces up to Sydney’s mom, followed by the other girl. Sydney winces: this guy is too energetic for her tastes.

 

“Hello~! You must be Mrs. Rodriguez! I’m David, and this is my co-counselor Gwen! Welcome to Camp Campbell!”

 

Sydney watches her mom bristle.

 

“Yes, well thank you.”

  
“And you must be Sydney! Hello!” David says, turning towards her and extending a hand. Sydney glances down at it, shakes it awkwardly and returns it back to her hoodie pocket. David doesn’t even bat an eye, turning back to Sydney’s mom. “Mrs. Rodriguez, if you don’t mind, I’d like to have Gwen get your child all settled in while we finish up some extra paperwork.”

 

Sydney takes note of the tone in David’s voice. He says child, not daughter, and he says it in a way that almost seems… well, she can’t quite place it, but it gives her hope. Sydney’s mom doesn’t notice, turning towards her daughter and placing both hands on her face as she crouches down to meet her eye level.

 

“Alright, Sydney, this is the last I’ll be seeing of you. Don’t cause trouble. Don’t step out of line. Don’t try to live your gross lie, either,” she whispers, only loud enough for Sydney to hear.  
  
She kisses Sydney’s head. Gwen clears her throat uncomfortably, and Sydney’s mom takes the hint. She straightens back up, brushing imaginary dust off of her jeans. Gwen places a gentle hand on Sydney’s back as the two head towards the main building, leaving David bumbling about with a small stack of papers, Sydney’s luggage, and Sydney’s mom.

 

The main building is filled with a few campers already, although none of them look like they’re in standard campwear. Sydney raises an eyebrow at the assortment of kids here; one camper is running around in a paper cap and elf ears, throwing dice at a camper in a yellow dress shirt. A third camper leans in the corner, popping gum. Gwen pushes Sydney past them, into one of the side rooms.

 

“What shirt size are you, kid?”

 

Sydney jumps, not expecting questions so quickly. “Medium, I think?” she mumbles, eyebrows furled. Gwen roots around in a box for a bit, throwing Sydney a yellow shirt.

 

“The shirt is camp mandatory - sorry, I know it’s a gross yellow, but I haven’t been able to sell David on other colors yet. If you want, you can get dressed in here. I won’t be looking, don’t worry; I actually have to fill out some paperwork, but I need your answers, so I’ll be turned around asking you questions.”

 

Sydney nods, waiting a moment. Gwen turns around, ruffling through a drawer. She pulls out a clipboard and a pen.

 

“Alright, kid, are you ready?”

 

Sydney nods. It’s quiet for a minute before she remembers that Gwen can’t see her.

 

“Sorry, yeah.”

 

Gwen nods, scribbling on the paper for a moment. Sydney slips out of her hoodie and stretches. The ace bandages hurt, but she ignores it.

 

“Name?”

“Sydney.”

  
There’s a moment of silence.

 

“No, not that name.”

 

Sydney is quiet, freezes up.

 

“I mean, what’s _your_ name. Not what your mom calls you. Your name.”

 

More silence. Sydney can’t say anything, can only stare at Gwen in confusion and fear. The counselor turns around.

 

“Listen, Kid, you can’t convince me that- Jesus Christ, what the fuck are you doing?”

 

Sydney flinches as Gwen bolts out of her chair, grabbing a pair of scissors and marching towards her.

 

“Kid, turn around now.”

 

Sydney tries to argue, but Gwen turns her around before she can argue. She can feel the tears trying to come out, desperately pushes them back as she feels cool metal against her back. Her hands fly up to cover her chest. There’s a loud _snip_ , and the pressure against her ribs is gone. Gwen turns her around, eyebrows furled.

 

“Do you have any more of that shit?”

 

Sydney nods fearfully, tears loose now. She winces, gestures with her head towards her hoodie. Gwen walks over to it, pulls the spare bandage out of her pocket.

 

“I’m sorry, kid, this is for your own good. You gotta trust me.”

 

The shreds of Sydney’s last ties to hope fall to the ground with the ace bandages. She lets out a small sob. Gwen’s shoulders drop, goes to a closet and pulls out a box.

 

“Hey, kid, chin up. We’re gonna get you all situated, just hold on a minute.”

 

Sydney sniffs, glares through unfocused eyes as she watches Gwen look through the box.

 

“Medium, right?”

  
Sydney nods. Gwen tosses a long grey shirt and a black almost crop top at her. She catches both, staring down at them.

 

“If you can, try to step into it. If you can’t, just put it on like a normal shirt. Down and out, buddy. Down and out.”

 

Sydney stops her crying for a moment. She looks up at Gwen.

 

“What?”

 

Gwen turns around, sighs. She’s wearing a sympathetic smile.

 

“The binder. What, did you think I was going to just leave you suffering? Dysphoria may be a bitch, but I’m not mean enough to take binding away from you.”

 

Sydney’s eyes widen. She stares back down at the binders, and opts for the black one. It slips on relatively easily, although she does get stuck for a moment. She fixes herself quickly, looking at Gwen expectantly.

 

“Down and out. It’ll look like pecs.”

 

Sydney nods, pushing her breasts over. She pulls the yellow shirt on over it, and takes a deep breath as she looks in the mirror. For the first time, she actually looks how she feels. Gwen smiles, this time fond.

 

“Sorry about that, kid. Ace bandages are dangerous, and I didn’t want you in them any longer. Now,” she says, walking back over to her clipboard. “Name, please.”

 

Sydney is quiet for a minute.

 

“Max. Call me Max.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading the first chapter of this Dadvid AU! I'm testing the waters out, since it's been at least 3 years since I posted a fic on the internet, and would like to know if anyone would be interested in me continuing to upload this!
> 
> -Angeles (They/Them)
> 
> EDIT: Because I got a few questions about it, Max doesn't actually use he/him pronouns in this chapter on purpose. As a trans kid with unsupportive parents, I myself have misgendered myself mentally so as to avoid slipping up when I speak. Given that Max's mother is less than pleasant, Max's train of thought is very similar. I apologize for any confusion!


	2. Coffee Pots and Gender Thoughts (the one with Esteban and the Trans!David reveal)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post date: 9/13/17  
> Chapter Word Count: 2019
> 
> TW for accidental outing and misgendering
> 
> (See end for author's notes)

A month and a half later finds Max hidden away in his tent, eyes shut as he grimaces. Mornings at Camp Campbell are too loud, that’s for sure. If he really focuses, he can barely make out birds beyond the canvas, followed by the frantic cawing of a crow that must have strayed too close to the mascot. He can hear Nikki get excited about how gross it is, and Neil trying not to vomit.

 

Closer to his bed, he can hear Nerris in the middle of one of her dungeon crawls. Preston is trying to coach Harrison on a scene from one of the newest plays he’s written, the latter complaining about the lack of magic. Space Kid must be stuck to the ceiling fan again, because his screaming about zero gravity echoes down to the shore. Max can only assume David’s trying to get him down.

 

Max tries to block it all out, failing when what he guesses is Space Kid crashes into the wall with a thud. There’s also a splash, followed by groaning, but Max has lost enough interest and ignores it. He rolls over, kicks the top half of his sleeping bag over so it’s vaguely made. No one else is in this tent hiding away, which gives Max the opportunity to slide on his binder before he leaves. No one is ever in his tent, though, so Max is never worried. Gwen specifically set him up with his own space, said she’d change it if he ever wanted that.

 

Of course, no matter how lonely Max felt sometimes, he’d never swap out. A single tent was as close to safe as he could get here. He’s especially thankful for it as he puts his shirt on. There’s no rushing to get dressed before anyone can see his binder, which is a blessing.

 

The flaps fly open, catching Max off-guard. Nikki stands there, out of breath and soaking wet.

 

“Max, you will _not_ believe what you missed!”

 

Max rolls his eyes, walking out into the main part of camp.

 

“Nikki, I can guarantee you I didn’t miss shit. Everyone’s so fucking _loud_ that I could hear it even through the pillow shoved over my face.”

 

Nikki nods. She wrings out one of her sleeves, following behind Max.

 

“No coffee this morning. Sorry, Max: Nurf finally broke Eileen while threatening Harrison this morning, so Gwen’s going to town later today to pick up a new one.”

 

Max perks up at that. If Gwen is going into town, then that means he can finally ask her what’s been nagging at him since day one.

 

Gwen almost sprints outside of the mess hall, which serves as a good enough change of environment to stop Max from continuing his train of thought.

“You’re on your own, David: I need coffee and Campbell doesn’t pay me enough to deal with these shits before I’ve had caffeine.”

 

Max looks at her expectantly, very much with a face that reads something along the lines of “Don’t leave me with these people.” She sighs, shaking her head.

 

“I’m taking Max with me, too, since you suck at deciding on coffee makers.”

 

She turns towards Nikki, narrows her eyes. “You staying here?”

 

Nikki nods, grinning. “It’s too quiet at the store. Besides, someone has to keep the level of crazy here high. I’ll let Neil know you’re out, Max. We’ll save you lunch,”

 

Nikki leaves before anyone can get a word in otherwise, leaving Max and Gwen standing awkwardly next to the flagpole. Gwen gestures towards the car.

“You ready?”

 

\-------------------------------------

 

The car ride is silent for exactly 3 minutes and 37 seconds (long enough for a catchy pop song to play on the radio) before Max breaks the silence.

 

“Gwen, how did you know?”

 

Gwen groans, shoulders slumping.

 

“Max, I’m not a mind reader, you’re going to need to be more-”

“How did you know I was trans?”

 

That makes the car quiet. Gwen’s mouth opens and closes a few times. Max plays with the hem of his hoodie.

 

Gwen breaks the silence this time.

 

“Listen, Max, sometimes people in the community just…. We know these things. I don’t know how exactly, either. It’s just something you pick up on. Besides, your mom did make it a bit obvious that you weren’t here for traditional camp. Almost all parents who aren’t accepting give off this kind of gross vibe, so I just hoped for the best.”

 

Max frowns. What he really wants to ask is whether or not she knew because she herself was trans, but the car stops before he gets a chance to ask. Max looks over at Gwen.

 

“Come on Max, let’s go get a coffee maker.”

 

\------------------

 

Picking out a coffee maker doesn’t help Max at all. He figured, before the pair left camp, that it might be easier to tell when they were out in public, but the entire opposite happens.

 

One customer, a girl in a flannel, catches Gwen in a conversation as the two enter Bullseye, a store which Gwen is sure sells coffee makers. The two chat for a few minutes before flannel girl slips Gwen her number, leaving with a wink. Gwen rubs the back of her head awkwardly and gestures in the vague direction of where she believes coffee makers are. Max doesn’t offer any commentary, instead follows after her quietly. One point for really butch lesbian.

 

One of the employees, who looks a lot like David if the counselor had a thing for red vests instead of brown, mistakes Gwen for a teenage boy. He apologizes immediately when she turns around in confusion. The stumbling over words in an attempt to defuse the situation. Of course, all he can say is “Oh! Boobs!” in an awkward stutter that has Max out of breath with laughter. Said employee leaves quickly, leaving Gwen shaking her head as Max tries to calm down. One point for trans girl.

 

The coffee maker that they decide on is nothing fancy, although it definitely looks nicer than the last one Camp Campbell had. Max is thankful that this one at least will have a competent filter that _doesn’t_ allow for coffee grounds to be jettisoned into the pot and fill the cracks that years of use around children had brought. Because Gwen is the one who actually pays for it, she decides on the name Enrique. Max asks her about it as they walk back to the car, Gwen holding the new coffee maker against her chest.

 

“We have to stay with E names, Max. Sharon didn’t even stand a chance when we bought her.”

 

Max frowns, tries to pick out sarcasm in Gwen’s voice. “Who’s Sharon?”

 

Gwen’s face darkens. “Exactly.”

 

Max squints. Gwen rolls her eyes as she sets the box in the back seat. Max takes that as his cue to get in the car. He clicks his seatbelt just as Gwen starts the car, and she lets out a sigh. It takes her a minute to get on the road.

 

“Alright, so the story about the coffee makers apparently dates back really early in Camp Campbell history? The lore is that all coffee makers at the camp have to start with the letter E, because it rhymes with C and gives them luck. I’m sure it’s bullshit and just luck, but the entire story gives it an uncanny level of validity. Basically, the first coffee maker that the camp had was Esteban, and that coffee maker lasted for a ridiculous amount of time. When he finally burnt out, one of the counselors bought a new one and the name didn’t start with an E, so it broke super fast. Each coffee maker bought after that either didn’t have a name or didn’t start with E, so they obviously didn’t last long.

 

“About the time I was in camp, though, the counselors asked Campbell about the coffee maker curse, and he joked that they had to have names that start with E, since it rhymes with C for the camp name. Yada yada yada, blah blah blah, counselors did that and suddenly increased the life of each coffee maker for a super long time.

 

“When David and I became counselors, I bought one and named her Sharon. David warned me about the coffee maker curse, and I didn’t listen. She barely lasted the week. David bought Eileen after that, and she lasted for a few good years. Somehow managed to survive being dropped hundreds of times, although she had been on her last limb for a while. David was just really reluctant to let her go to the big trash heap in the sky, I guess.”

 

Gwen reaches back to pat the new coffee maker, grinning.

 

“Esteban and I have a pact, though, and it’s to outlast Eileen _and_ Sharon. I think the two of us can make it, don’t you Max?”

 

Max nods. When Gwen doesn’t say anything, he realizes she’s looking at the road, so he speaks up.

 

“Uh, yeah, I guess so?”

 

Gwen frowns.

 

“You’ve been kind of quiet the whole trip, Max. Not that silence isn’t a good thing, but it’s kind of weird for you to be quiet in a not-mean way. Is something up?”

 

Max takes a breath.

 

“Gwen, I mean this in the least offensive way possible, but did you know I was trans because you’re trans?”

 

Gwen chokes, swerving slightly. Max winces, grabbing onto the door handle. Gwen glances at him momentarily, just to make sure he’s okay, then looks back at the road.

 

“I wasn’t actually expecting _that_ of all things, Max.”

 

Max waits patiently. Gwen shakes her head.

 

“No, Max, I’m not trans. I’m about as cis as they get, sorry to disappoint. If it was about the store dude today, I get that a lot. People either assume I’m a teenage boy or just a huge lesbian. Besides, _someone’s_ gotta be the super ally for the idiot that is David. If he crashes and burns when there’s a trans kid in need, I don’t want to sit around like an asshole while I twiddle my thumbs and hope for the best.”

 

“You were so quick to toss binders my way, though!”

 

Gwen snorts.

 

“Yeah, because David tried ace bandages on a hike _once_ when he was like 12 and couldn’t do anything for weeks since he busted his ribs. It was fucking awful the entire time. I know he’d never let anyone make that mistake again, and I’m not about to either.”

 

Max cocks his head, stares at Gwen in confusion.

 

“Wait, David is trans?”

 

Gwen stares down at Max as she pulls the car into camp, shock plastered onto her face.

 

“ _He didn’t tell you?_ ”

 

Max is out of the car before Gwen can say anything else, angry and hurt and confused and a lot of other things. He blows past Nikki and Neil, doesn’t even offer them a short _“hello”_ as he storms towards the mess hall. He slams open the door.

 

David, blissfully unaware, looks up at Max in confusion. The counselor is in the middle of wrapping Nerris’s wrist in a splint, the latter who smiles and waves a sword at Max.

 

“David, you fucking asshole. I spend over a month in this shitty camp, and you can’t tell me shit? I have to find out from _Gwen_?”

 

David’s face falls: he knows exactly what Max is talking about. He turns towards Nerris, offers a sorry smile.

 

“I’m sorry Nerris, do you think I can finish your wrist later?”

 

She nods, _what a fucking nice person_ , and scoots by the pair with a smile. David watches her leave. Max fumes.

 

“David, you better have a _damn_ good reason why I’ve been getting second hand help from Gwen and not an _actual fucking_ person who knows this shit first hand!” Max yells. His fists curl up in his sleeves, angry and nervous and exhausted all at once.

 

David sighs, glances up at max from where he’s sitting and frowns.

 

“Max, I owe you both an explanation and an apology.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back a-fuckin-gain with the fic, this time with a vastly different chapter than what I had planned. The original chapter had Max outing David to the entire camp, which I felt was A) a huge piece of shit move, even for Max, and B) not something I felt comfortable with, so I scrapped it and replotted, hence why the update took longer than I had hoped.
> 
> The coffee maker ordeal is, in its entirety, based off of a real superstition that I had at an old volunteer job. Because I used to work a lot chaperoning at senior citizen dances as a young kid, I was in charge of making coffee. Eileen the coffee maker was arguably the biggest, oldest coffee machine I'd ever seen, and she'd been around for ages. She spat coffee grounds into the coffee, and some of the pots had cracks that would spew out coffee when it felt like it. They did try to buy a Sharon, once, but she did not last longer than a week. 
> 
> I'm expecting to get a lot of comments about Max being angry about David being trans, so allow me to explain. I did have an experience where a younger person I knew was getting advice from someone they thought was trans, aka a good friend at the time. When they found out that said friend was cis and I was the trans kid, they were pissed because we had similar gender identities, and they had been getting help from whom they assumed was a transgirl. (I'm trans-masc agender, for the record.) It's definitely different getting advice from someone who's been in your shoes versus someone who has had similar experiences. Max's anger isn't that David is trans, it's that David didn't help him out with being a trans kid in the first place. I get that some people may find it not okay to be mad about, but for a ten-year-old kid who's half-convinced himself that he's alone/an anomaly, it's really frustrating to find out that someone could have been helping you the entire time.
> 
> (I AM NOT SAYING THAT YOU HAVE TO TELL EVERYONE YOUR GENDER IDENTITY/STATUS, JUST FOR THE RECORD.)
> 
> -Angeles (They/Them)


	3. The Ballad of David

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max yells at David some more, David tells a story then leaves. Max watches some videos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post Date: 10/15/17  
> Chapter Word Count: 2351

 

“You see, Max, when I was a camper, things weren’t as easy as they are now. People didn’t really know what to do, so when people started finding out, it was stressful. I had so many voices in my head that I forgot which one was mine for a bit.”

 

Max lets out a  _ humph _ , plops down on a bench. He glares as David goes through an old, waterlogged cardboard box.

 

“Yeah, okay,  _ whatever _ , but it’s now! And not then! Shit’s easier, David.”

 

David pulls out an old VHS tape and sighs as he sits himself on the opposite side of the bench so he can face Max.

 

“Max, I want to tell you a story about a girl who was in a similar situation to you. She was close to your age, too...”

 

\----------------

 

Many years prior to this moment finds 10-year-old Dove Summers kicking a rock outside of the mess hall. Her hands rub the strings of her guitar nervously. They  _ twang _ sorrowfully in response. Gregg and Darla are in the counselor’s office, talking. Dove is almost thankful that she can’t hear them, of course. They’ve been concerned about her since the first day, and Dove’s confession just now? It didn’t go over well, from what she can tell. After all, her mother never mentioned anything like this in the additional notes section. 

 

If she really focuses, Dove can still see her mother grinning, can feel the bear hug as she sends her only daughter off. Dove’s three older brothers all loved this camp, so why shouldn't she? After all, her mother knows  _ everything _ about her kids. 

 

What Dove’s mother doesn’t know is what happens immediately after their Subaru pulled away from the dirt road.

 

~~~

 

“What did she call you? Dovey? Is that your name?” a girl asks. Dove turns around, startled. Standing before her is a girl with a short bob, a comic book tucked underneath her arm. 

 

“Well? Are you just going to stand there? What’s your name, girlie?”

 

Dove panics.

 

“Oh, you must’ve misheard her. My name’s Dove, but my nickname is Davey! And I’m actually a guy, but that’s okay, I get called a girl a lot.”

 

The girl looks ‘him’ up and down, frowning. She shrugs.

 

“Alright,  _ Davey _ . My name’s Gwen.” She offers a handout, which Davey shakes. “Nice to meet you.” 

 

~~~

 

Gwen peaks around the corner of the mess hall, startling Dove out of her thought process. 

 

“Davey, come on! You’re gonna miss the bonfire!”

 

Dove jumps at the sudden talking. Once she notices her friend, she shakes her head. “Sorry, Gwen, but I’ve gotta wait for the counselors.”   
  
Gwen groans, rolls her head back. “Fine, but hurry up! I’ll save you a seat!”

 

Dove sighs in relief as Gwen rounds the corner. She looks up at the window of the mess hall, where she can just make out Darla and Gregg. The latter of the counselors looks panicked, hands raised. While the windows to a great job of blocking noise, Dove can read the emotion on both of their faces easily.

 

_ Fear _ .

 

_ At this rate _ , Dove thinks,  _ I should just go pack up my guitar and leave for my tent. There’s no  _ way _ that they’ll let me play at the bonfire with everything happening _ .

 

Dove tenses as she hears footsteps, relaxing when she pins them as the heavy steps of one Cameron Campbell.

 

“What’s wrong, camper? Aren’t you coming to the bonfire?”

 

Dove sighs, slumping against the wall as she looks at her shoes. She leans her guitar up against the wall as well, only for it to slide over and hit her side.

 

“I made a mistake, and I think I said the wrong thing, Mr. Campbell,” she mumbles. Campbell nods thoughtfully.

  
“Well, we all do that from time to time. As long as it doesn’t hurt anyone or put you in any  _ legal _ trouble, then it should be fine, right?”

“Yeah, but-”

“Now, I know for a fact that everyone is very excited for your surprise, Davey. “

 

Dove looks at Campbell, tries to hold back tears.

 

“Sir, that’s the problem though! I lied to everyone! Davey isn’t my name, and I told Gregg and Darla that, and now they’re upset with me because I lied about myself!”

 

Campbell sighs, placing a hand on her shoulder as he kneels down to her level.

 

“In my many years of being here at Camp Campbell, I have never known anyone to lie about who they truly were, Davey. Just because your registration form says your name is different, doesn’t mean it’s true to you. That’s the lesson we ultimately try to teach at this camp.”

 

Dove nods. Campbell grins, standing up.

 

“Now, let’s get to that bonfire.”

 

\----------------

 

Max is quiet for a moment. He studies David’s face, waits to see if the counselor plans on saying anything else. When the man doesn’t, Max takes things into his own hands.

 

“So, basically, you did the same thing at camp except with totally different results, and then you had a pep talk from Cameron  _ Shitbag _ , and that made it all better? And that’s why you didn’t say shit?”

“ _ Max-” _

“No, David, that’s shitty! You could have at least given me a heads up! I don’t know, a ‘ _ Oh hey, Max, I’m out to go do weird nature shit, also if you have trans questions that Gwen doesn’t know then I’m your resident trans guy! You can come talk to me!’  _ or some shit!”

 

David sighs. 

 

“Max, I know you’re angry, and you have a right to be so. I didn’t tell you the whole truth, and I’m aware that it probably seemed like I was dumping you on someone else,” David says quietly. Max looks away from him, narrowing his eyes.

 

David must take the hint, because Max hears a gentle thud and the sound of old wheels screeching. He looks back up. David is frowning at him.

 

“Max, I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I want you to watch this.”

 

David leaves without another word, leaving Max alone.

  
  
  
  


Static fills the silence in the room. On the screen, a bunch of kids sit around a large campfire. Someone steps up to the opposite side of the camera and coughs nervously, accompanied by a younger Cameron Campbell. 

 

Max squints. The kid looks familiar from what he can tell. He’s wearing a bright yellow shirt and shorts; standard camp attire. What Max picks up on is the dumb David-style haircut.

“No fucking way,” he mumbles, staring at the screen.

 

The kid looks up to Campbell, who nods and grins. The kid turns back towards the rest of the campers.

 

“Uh, hi, everyone,” he mumbles. He’s shrunken in on himself, and he looks like he’s about ready to hurl. “Before I show you guys the camp surprise, I have a confession to make.”

 

The kid looks at Campbell again before taking a deep breath. 

 

“You see, while a lot of you know me as Davey, my real name is actually Dove.”

 

There are shocked gasps from the entire circle. The kid continues speaking.

 

“I apologize if anyone is hurt by that, but it’s the truth. I’m still not actually sure why I told everyone my name was Davey, or why I pretended to be a boy.”

 

Max watches as the kid, who he assumes is a young David, stops himself. 

 

“No, that’s not true. I think that the reason that I said that is because, deep down, I  _ am _ a boy. I know that sounds strange, but it’s true. Deep down, in my heart, I’m a boy, and my name is David.”

 

There’s silence again, followed by clapping. Two people in green counselor’s shirts sprint up, only to be stopped by Campbell, who gently puts an arm out. The man takes a breath.

 

“Thank you, David, for being so honest with us. I’m sure that took a lot of courage.”

 

David smiles and nods as he pulls out a guitar from behind his back.

 

“Now, if you all don’t mind, I have a song I want you guys to hear!”

 

Max sits back as the then-David starts plucking the guitar strings. Max recognizes the tune instantly; the song David always tries to sing at today’s bonfires, the same song that Gwen shoots down every time. 

  
The screen cuts again, this time a vlog-styled shot of David. He’s not looking at the camera, eyes at his feet.

 

“David, honey,  _ please. _ I know it’s painful, and it sucks, but the doctors need to see documented proof. If we could, I’d just run in like a bat out of hell and make them give it to you, but I  _ unfortunately  _ don’t think it’ll work well.”

 

The voice belongs to someone Max doesn’t know, but he guesses it’s David’s mom. The David in the shot nods and mutters out an agreement.

  
From what Max can gather, the next ten plus shots are David throughout the years. A lot of them feature David with black eyes or bloody noses. He talks a lot in them as it progresses. A few of them are him, face red with anger as he yells about adults trying to shape him how they wish. One features an especially angry David waving a frilly skirt around as he complains loudly about his aunt, who must have brought him the skirt recently. Max smiles at that one.

 

The backdrop changes suddenly, which Max keys in on. David must be about 15 by now, he thinks to himself. The ginger looks like hell; he’s covered in stitches and bruises, and Max can just barely make out a cloth shoulder strap.  _ Broken arm. _

 

“So my dad’s home. He got a promotion, which means that he gets to stay home instead of traveling the country. I thought that’d be great, because we had to wait for him to get back to finish signing my paperwork, but he had other ideas. The short story is that he got drunk when he got home, beat the living  _ hell _ out of me, and threw me out. Mom freaked out when she came back from the grocery store to find me bleeding all over the sidewalk, and she’s pretty mad at my dad. He said some nasty shit about me, most of which I’m used to, but it’s different when it comes from family.”

 

David shrugs, rolls his healthy shoulder and runs a hand through his hair.

 

“Anyways, since it’s not safe for me at home, Mom drove me to camp. Cameron Campbell, you know, the _ famous  _ one? He was there, and he remembered me! He’s letting me crash here until my mom can divorce my dad and file charges. Not the best situation, but it is what it is. Mr. Campbell immediately took me clothes shopping once I got cleaned up, since I didn’t have too much when I got here, so now I actually have guy clothes!”

 

Max watches in interest as the next video swaps from David’s face to David, arm in a sling plus an almost-healed face, and a woman in her early 40’s. She’s grinning, hair pulled into a low bun. The camera is shaky, and a girl giggles behind it. The woman turns towards the camera, smiling as she sighs.

 

“Hope, honey, you need to keep the camera straight!”

“Got it, Mom!” a voice responds from offscreen.

 

The woman shakes her head.

 

“So, David, what’s today?”

 

David rolls his eyes.

 

“Today’s my 16th birthday, Mom.”

 

David’s mother lightly smacks his arm, handing him a small present bag.

 

“Happy birthday, Davey.”

 

Max watches David pull tissue paper out of the bag. David is laughing, then stops suddenly as he peers inside. David’s mom laughs.

 

“What’s in the bag?”

  
David looks up at his mom, shaking his head.

 

“Is this what I think it is?”

 

She nods.

 

“Happy birthday, my little man.”

 

David grins, wipes a tear off of his face as he pulls a small white and red box out of the bag. Even with the poor quality, Max recognizes it immediately.

 

The following shots are vlog style, although it swaps from David talking about life to David talking about transitioning. Max watches as he goes from baby-faced kid to the David he actually knows.

 

The last scene is recent, which surprises Max. 

 

“Dear camper,” David starts. “If you’re watching this, then it means that you’re also trans. Here at Camp Campbell, we believe that all kids should get the freedom to express themselves however they please.”

 

David takes a deep breath. Max notices the counselor’s hands shaking.

 

“When I came out almost 15 years ago, things sucked. Almost weekly, I got beaten up and ridiculed. I suffered a lot. People tried to tell me how to be a trans guy, people that didn’t know themselves. There’s a possibility that you’re watching this and I haven’t been there to give you a helping hand.”

 

Another breath. David’s looking directly into the camera now. Max almost feels uncomfortable by how serious he looks.

 

“I don’t want to do the same things to you, camper, that I had done to me. I want to be here for you, but I don’t want to make your decisions for you if that isn’t want you want. After all, you know what you need the best. Whatever you need, though, just know that Gwen and I are more than capable to help, and we’ll do so if you ask.”

 

The screen turns off, leaving Max in a very dark room.

 

Everything is quiet.    
  
  


  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOULD YOU BELIEVE ME IF I SAID THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY GOOGLE DOCS SINCE THE 26TH AND I JUST FORGOT TO MOVE IT OVER TO ARCHIVE?
> 
> Here's Chapter 3, with everyone's favorite camp counselor David, being himself and existing as he does.


	4. The Shit (not the good kind). Also, David's Cool Suburban House; Pets Edition™

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David tries to take Max home after his mom leaves him at camp, but Max's mom has better ideas. By better, I mean she's drunk and an asshole. David decides to adopt Max instead, and takes him to what is honestly the biggest definition of life goals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post date: 12/15/17  
> Chapter Word Count: 1291
> 
> TW for transphobic language (especially the t-slur), implied child abuse

 

In the few months that Max has been at camp, he’s decided that there are three specific things that will always hold true in life, no matter what.

 

_ Number one; Nikki can and will befriend the most dangerous animals possible. This does not always work out in everyone else’s favor. _

 

“See you next summer, Max!”

Max offers a wave as Nikki hops into her mom’s car, backpack full of what Max assumes must be the python she found two days ago. The rustle that she covers up by coughing loudly confirms that. Neil grimaces, turning towards Max.

“I guess I’m leaving too. Nikki’s mom is gonna drop me off at my dad’s house, so wish me luck.”

As Neil trudges up to the car, Max sighs, walking back into the mess hall. He passes David, sitting at an empty lunch table with a stack of paperwork. The counselor looks up at Max and smiles.

“Alright, Max, now it’s just time for your parents to come!”

_ Number two: David is optimistic in every situation, no matter what. _

 

Max doesn’t remember nodding off, but David gently shaking him awake must mean he did. He shakes the sleep out of his head, rolling his shoulders as he leaves the mess hall. The camp feels weird without kids running around tonight, almost like a scene out of a horror movie. Unnerved, Max reaches quickly for his binder, now stashed in his sweatshirt. Gwen pops into Max’s field of view, green camp logo shirt ditched for a jean jacket and a band shirt. She’s still got cargo shorts on, though, which Max somehow finds relief in. There’s a conversation he must have missed, because Gwen’s also leaning against a jet black car that is too nice to belong to Campbell.

“Hey, so I’m gonna take off, David. I have your stuff in my car, and I’ll drop it off tomorrow morning at your place when I pull into town. I promised Eva I’d stop by.”

David laughs, shaking his head. Max frowns.

“Alright, you do that Gwen. I’m gonna drive Max home. His mom must’ve mixed up the dates on the flier we sent out.”

Gwen nods, standing awkwardly in front of the pair.

“Hey, uh, Max? You’re a good kid, don’t forget that,” she says. Max waits for the sarcasm that usually follows a compliment from any adult, but Gwen gives the two a thumbs up and gets in her car.

David claps his hands suddenly, looking down at Max.

“Alright, buddy, let’s get you home.”

 

  
The drive back in to the city is too quiet. Yeah, sure, David managed to get some soft rock radio station to play in the station wagon’s beat up speakers, but the mood of the car is definitely strangling. Max has been leaning his head on the passenger seat window, watching the trees fade into patchy grass fields -which he notes as weird because David has always been insistent on him riding in the backseat- and the fields turn into buildings. It feels like mere moments before the grey concrete begins to look familiar, the 24-hour corner store that sells piragua in the summer blinking its neon sign in an attempt to draw in the few people awake at this hour. 

A quick glance at the dusty clock on the dashboard indicates that it’s 11:43 PM, which leaves a sinking feeling in Max’s stomach. It only grows worse when David pulls up to the chrome apartment building and the lights on Max’s floor are mostly open. Max doesn’t know exactly which window is his, but enough are lit up to make him shudder. David doesn’t notice his hesitance, Max realizes, because the man is way too chipper as he opens Max’s door. He’s got a messenger bag slung over his shoulder, which Max definitely doesn’t recognize, but he’s too preoccupied with his own camp bag that’s being handed to him to focus on it.

“I’ll walk you up, Max, so I know you get in safe.”

The smell of cheap booze hits Max as soon as the pair enter the lobby. David doesn’t mention it, probably because he isn’t attuned to the smell, but Max can practically feel the waves of off-brand whiskey as they roll off of the desk attendant. David waves to the man, who only glares in return. Max feels chills down his spine as they step into the elevator, can barely choke out a “Fourth one” when David asks which floor. The elevator tries to cover the mood with soft jazz and the smell of fresh flowers. 

It’s too quickly that the doors open to Max’s floor. His legs move of their own accord, walking confidently down the hall despite the fact that Max wants nothing more than to run in the opposite direction. David doesn’t comment, chipperly following behind him. Max gags when they reach his door; it smells more like a dive bar. The TV blares some cheap soap opera his mom is addicted to inside. David knocks gently on the door, which has Max snapping back to the present. 

 

_ Number three: Max’s mom is never pleasant after dark when alcohol is involved. _

 

Max is pulling David’s arm down as the door swings open, revealing Max’s mom herself. Her hair’s pulled into a scrunchie, cup of what looks like whiskey in one hand as she glares the two of them down.

“The fuck do you want,” she slurs. Max fights the urge to run past the two and barricade himself in the spare bedroom. David’s stance changes immediately, although to Max’s horror he’s no longer decided to be happy David.

“Ma’am, you forgot to pick your child up from camp today,” he growls. “I figured I’d do your job for you.”

“You say forgot like I didn’t do it on purpose,” the woman snaps. Max winces.

David raises a finger to stop her, but she continues anyways.

“You see, Derek, or whatever your name is, I didn’t spend 15 hours in labor to push out a fucking tranny. I don’t want no disgrace to hold up the family name. As far as I’m concerned, Sydney is still at camp. I don’t know who you brought here, but it isn’t my baby girl. Whatever this is, it isn’t welcome in my house. Get out.”

Max is frozen to his spot. He knows all too well what his mom is like drunk, and he doesn’t know if he can hide from her tonight. David steps in front of him before he can. Max can hear one of the apartment doors open, and glances over to see one of the older women in the complex peering out. He’s pretty sure her name is Susan, but he’s never asked. She’s invited him over for tea and baked goods multiple times, and occasionally lets him sleep in her guest room when his mom is out drunk.

“Actually, Mrs. Rodriguez,  _ Max _ is the furthest thing from a disgrace, and your  _ son _ is in front of you.”

Max shakes his head, shoving David aside.

“Don’t, please,” he whispers. “You’ll only make it worse. She’s too drunk for you to argue, and too fucking stupid to understand.”  

Max clamps his hands over his mouth in horror when he realizes what he’s said, eyes wide as his mom’s hand raises above her head. 

“How  _ fucking _ dare you?”

He’s flinching before it comes back down, eyes clamped shut as he curls in on himself.

To Max’s surprise, nothing ever comes back down for him. He opens an eye, shocked to find that David’s clenching his mom’s wrist, face dripping with rage. His mom more shocked than anything, eyes wide and mouth torn somewhere in between a snarl and a dropped jaw. She rips her hand away from him, cradling it close to her chest. David brushes his shirt down, reaching into his messenger bag and bringing out a paper-clipped stack of paper. He pulls out a pen as well, offering the two to her.

“Mrs. Rodriquez, if you’re intent on kicking Max out, then you wouldn’t mind signing this.”

“Why?” she growls.

“Because if you don’t want to take care of your son, then I will. These are adoption papers. All you have to do is sign.”

Max watches his mom glare at the stack, almost as if she was expecting it to bite her. She snatches it quickly, flipping through it. Max catches a glimpse of little neon post-its indicating where she should sign. It’s a minute of silence before she throws the stack at David.

“I’m leaving to go get more booze. I’ll be back in an hour. Don’t be here when I get back.”

Max watches her stumble down the hall, unaware that he’s shaking until David gently places a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you okay, Max?”

Max nods shakily. 

“Don’t adoption papers need a witness?” Max’s neighbor asks suddenly. David turns around.

“I’m sorry?”

“The papers, don’t they need a witness signature? So they’re legal? Sorry, I’m Susan K Jones, I live across the hall” she asks again, extending a hand as she introduces herself. David takes her hand.

“David, and if you’re offering to sign, I’d be thankful.”

Susan laughs in a charming grandmotherly way.

“Of course I’d love to. I wouldn’t want to leave -was it Max?- here with his mother. She’s been awful lately.”

David hands her the papers and the pen, which she signs. She glances down at Max.

“I knew you had a good head on your shoulders, son. I’m just sorry I couldn’t do anything sooner.”

“Thank you, Susan,” Max breathes. She grins, clapping her hands.

“Well, you two better get a move on! I don’t want to hold you two back.”

David nods, grinning. He thanks her, then picks his way through the door.

 

The Rodriquez apartment is exactly how Max remembers it. Empty bottles of assorted boozes litter the living room. Some of the walls have indents where his mother was particularly drunk and punchy. Max makes his way to the spare room. He has to push on it with his shoulder to open it, which makes him feel a bit better since it reaffirms that his mom hasn’t been in there.

Max looks over the dark room. Not much lines his walls, really. He can feel David behind him, ready to help. 

“I just have to pull some clothes out of my closet, and then we can go,” Max mumbles. David cocks his head, then nods.

“I’ll run down to the car, I have a spare backpack you can put your things in.”

Max says nothing, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding when he hears footsteps retreating from the apartment. He wastes no time pulling out the few clothes he’d willingly take with him, setting them down on the bed. He pulls out plastic bin that’s buried underneath some of his mom’s clothes, checks to make sure that his few prized possessions are still safe inside. 

David is back quickly, holding one of the camping backpacks that Max swears he recognizes from the climbing gear. It’s still half empty by the time they stuff everything into it. 

“Well then, let’s head out.”

  
  
  
  


The car ride is even quieter as they drive back from the apartment building, which Max didn’t even think was possible. There’s no rock music to tune out to. On the bright side of things, the buildings start to fade back into plains as they drive out of the city. Those plains start to turn into parks and suburban houses. It’s easily forty minutes before the station wagon actually pulls to a stop. Max looks to David, who smiles at him.

“This is us on the right. Ready to go in?”

Max nods, grabbing his backpack as he opens his door. He waits for David to appear from the other side of the car, carrying a few different backpacks.

The house David walks up to looks like it was cut out of any family movie ever. Max can’t really pick out any defining details, other than it’s somehow exactly the type of house that David would ever live in.

 

The door opens before David gets to it. A large rottweiler bounds towards David, nub tail wagging furiously. Behind the door is some extremely tall guy wearing nothing but boxers with a tired smile, sighing as the dog spins in circles. Max pauses as the dog leaps for him, convinced that he’ll meet his end via 80 pounds of slobber and muscle wrapped in a blue scarf.

“Titus, heel,” David calls sternly. The dog in question stops in his tracks, turning around and looking up at David. The man points towards the door in an exaggerated fashion, and the dog slowly pads back into the house.

“Come on in, Max, Titus’s harmless. I’m Eric, by the way. I’m David’s roommate,” the man calls from the doorway. Max doesn’t say anything as he walks through the door, David behind him. The door closes

Inside, a smaller dog with a red bandana lazily lifts its head to look at Max. A second one, clad in a green bandana, walks up to Max, tail wagging.

“Heeler in red is Artemis, green one is her brother Capone. If you see a yellow bandana, that’s our husky Calypso,” David explains, giving Capone a pat on his head as he sends him off. “The cats are Cedar, a tabby, Birch, who’s a black cat, and Willow, who’s a calico.”

Max laughs.

“Really? You have cats named after trees?”

David shakes his head, smiling. “Nope, the cats belong to Eric. Titus and Calypso are my dogs, Artemis is here so she can live out her final days in a comfy bed instead of a metal cage, and Capone is a foster. Artemis is kind of cranky, so don’t be too surprised if she doesn't warm up to you immediately.”

Max nods. One of the cats, Birch, is rubbing against his leg purring. He takes a minute to absorb everything. Eric pops into view, a robe wrapped tightly around himself. He leans his head on David’s shoulder.

“Sorry about my state, kid, but you caught me at sort of a bad time. Davey here woke me up to let me know you two were coming. It was all I could do to clean up one of the rooms, but I forgot about actual clothes. Hopefully I wasn’t too scarring.”

Max shakes his head. “Nah, I’ve seen worse.”

David brushes past Max as he sets his backpack on the couch. Capone trods after him, sniffing the bag before yawning.

“Max, if you wanna follow me, I’ll show you your room so you can set your stuff down.”

David tilts his head to the hallway. Max walks behind him. David stops at one of the doors on the right, opening the door and gesturing.

“This is your room. You’ll have to excuse the paint, since Eric wanted plain old blue when we moved in, but if you want we can pick up paint tomorrow. I figure you’re pretty tired, but if you’re hungry or thirsty, we have drinks in the fridge and I think Eric has leftover spaghetti. The bathroom is also one door to your left.”

Max is speechless. The room is much bigger than the spare that he slept in, and is definitely much nicer as well.

“Thanks, David,” Max manages to choke out. He sets his backpack down on the floor. David does the same. “I kinda just want to sleep, if that’s okay.”

David nods. 

“Alright, fair point. Sleep well, Max. If you need me, I’m just down the hall. Last door on the right.”

Max doesn’t say anything, kicking off his shoes. David leaves him within a minute. Max can hear him talking to Eric somewhere else in the house as he pulls the sheets back, laying down and wrapping the blankets around himself tightly. The house is pretty quiet within a few minutes. Max finds himself staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. There’s a soft jingle, suddenly; Max peers up from his cocoon just as the bed dips suddenly, revealing a blue heeler with a red bandana. Artemis stares at Max for a moment, then grunts. She’s careful about picking her way up the bed. Max doesn’t say anything as Artemis looks at him expectantly. Half as a joke, he lifts up the blankets closest to his chest. Artemis lays down next to him, letting out a sigh as Max puts the blanket back down. She lifts her head, licking his forehead once before resting it in between her paws. Max doesn’t say anything, curling further into the blankets. 

It’s a bit easier to fall asleep after that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo what the fuck it's me, i'm back
> 
> Apologies for the hiatus to all of the current readers. What with NaNoWriMo and family stuff, I haven't actually had time to look at this fic. I'll be better about updating hopefully.
> 
> Comments? Questions? Feel free to leave them; I'll get back with you!  
> (ignore typos, I don't have a beta and I rely solely on me catching things)
> 
> -Angeles (They/Them)


End file.
